Grieving
by LauraHannah90
Summary: At Renée’s graveside, Renesmee asks Bella to tell her about the grandmother she never met. How does Renesmee act with this new information? Will Bella find comfort in her daughter? One-Shot


_A/N: I really wanted to explore this for two reasons. I wanted Nessie to have a connection with Renee, but I also wanted Bella and Nessie to have a moment. It was quite sad to write, but fun all the same._

_Thanks to Alex (Thats-So-Alex) for Beta-ing. She is great!_

_Of course, I do not own Twilight._

_Renesmee's POV:_

* * *

My mother stood parallel to the newly placed headstone, her body as still as the headstone itself, her eyes burning into it. We'd been here for just over half an hour now, but I wasn't going to complain.

Standing about a metre away from the back of my mother's rigid stature, for the first time ever, I was beside my other grandmother; Grandma Renée.

My father stood with his arm around Mom's waist, as if holding her up. In a way, it was strange to be here, almost out of place. I'd never met Renée, and it felt strange to be mourning her death. At least dad had met her once or twice, where as I'd never even seen her. She didn't know that I existed.

"Renesmee?" I looked up from where I'd been making a small hole in the ground with my shoe to look at my father. I was as old as him now, or at least we looked the same age. It seemed strange at first, but he was still the authority figure in my life, despite my age. He was still the man that had walked me down the aisle as I married Jake.

"I need to go and speak to Carlisle." He told me, indicating for me to take his place.

Panicked, I shot him a look, screaming my protests in my head. I couldn't care for my grief-stricken mother, I thought, but Dad shot me a pleading look, something I couldn't say no to.

"I'll be right back, Bella." He promised, kissing her hair before he disappeared from her side, lost somewhere in the cemetery.

I didn't replace Dad's hand around my mother's waist; I simply stood beside her, and followed her gaze to the piece of stone.

"Is your father gone?" She whispered to me, and I turned around to see. I couldn't see him there, nor could I hear him. I nodded quickly.

Leaning in to her, I noticed that she was biting her lip. Suddenly, her shoulders began shaking harshly, rattling her whole body and she fell against me, wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm sorry, Nessie." She sobbed tearlessly into my shoulders. I wondered if Dad was around, because I wanted him to come back. But something told me he was best out the way, as if Mom had been holding it all in whilst he'd been present. "Your father blames himself." She breathed a statement that made no sense to me.

"Why?" I asked like a curious little girl, despite that I was mentally seventeen.

Mom pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. Her own were not golden, but black, only it was not thirst that tinted their colour, but grief.

"Because, honey, he changed me, as you know." She sighed, biting her lip again. "I don't regret it at all, but your dad blames himself because he thinks he's the reason I couldn't see Renée after the change." Mom explained. I could tell by her words that she didn't blame Dad, or me. She didn't think it was anyone's fault, just one of those things she wished she could have changed.

"What was she like?" I croaked a little, turning to look at the grave. The words 'Renée Dwyer' were carved at the top, followed by 'a loving mother and wife'. No where did it say grandmother. No where. I began to feel sick.

"Renée?"

"Yes." I paused. "Tell me about my grandmother." I proceeded with caution, fully aware that anything I said may cause another spout of grief, or hysterical sobs. Only Mom surprised me. She smiled.

"She was the craziest and unorganised person you could ever meet!" Mom exclaimed, a laugh threatening to escape her mouth until she pursed her lips closed. "She was a friend as well as a mother, and I could talk to her about everything." Mom paused and closed her eyes tightly. "About everything human." She corrected and I worried she was going to get upset again.

"I loved her so much, and she loved me. Did I tell you that once she kept me off school because we couldn't find my reading book that I was supposed to return and I didn't want to go without it?" Mom laughed in memory, and then squinted as if in concentration.

I gently lowered her to the floor, and we sat crossed legged beside Renée's grave that was decorated with daffodils.

"Once, in the summer, we had a whole day just playing games. She called in sick to work and we sat and played all day." Again, the concentration appeared on her face. "I can't remember it all." She bit her lip frustrated.

"Anyway, she loved kids, honey. She would have loved you. I know she would love you, because you are so perfect. I wish she could have known…" Mom trailed off, leaving me with my own thoughts as she played in hers.

I wished she could have known me too. She seemed different to the rest of my family, almost childlike. That would have been fun to grow up with, especially as I wasn't allowed to play with other children.

"She was like me, in a lot of ways." Mom smiled quietly, shocking me. Childish and eccentric wasn't exactly how I'd describe my mother. "In appearances." She added at my wide eyes. "You've seen pictures, haven't you?"

I only remembered one or two that Grandpa Charlie had shown me one time; they were only brief ones, because most of the pictures of Renée belonged to Renée herself.

"A few."

"Well, she had short brownish hair, and big blue eyes. She looked like me; the same facial structure, but lots of laugh lines." Mom paused. "She was always laughing." Mom breathed out in a sigh, and I sat in silence. Only for Mom, I swear she was remembering Renée's laugh. Her own smile proved that she wasn't sitting in silence at all, instead, listening to a musical laughter. At least, that's how I imagined it.

"Did she like Dad?" I asked quietly when her glance disappeared to the grass beneath us. Each blade spiked up messily, and our bodies pressed the ones we were sitting on flat against the ground.

"I think so. She said so." Mom smiled gently. "I was really worried when your father and I got engaged. Apart from Charlie, Renée was the one who I was scared of most – she hated marriage. She thought I'd regret it." I found this hard to believe. "She only knew half of the story though." The sigh that escaped her lips was a sad one, and she stole another glance at the fresh headstone.

"Why did she hate marriage?"

Mom's eyebrows knit together in concentration. "Not marriage in general." She said. "More marriage at a young age. You see, Charlie and Renée got married young and it ended badly. She thought all young marriages would end the same, like hers had, because of the hasty decisions."

Mom began picking the grass, fidgeting as she often did when either impatient, or nervous, or awkward. Her brown hair fell over her black eyes, shading them into further darkness. But through the strands of her hair, I could slowly see the promise of a smile, a promise of happiness returning.

"Mom?" I asked cautiously. So far, my questions and curiosity had replaced the gloomy look on her face with a promising smile. I would ask more, go deeper, and turn her eyes to a golden shade. "Why couldn't you tell her?"

Her face became solid and her eyes closed as she thought. Her long lashes were visible as they blinked hard.

"Because it would have been cruel." She admitted sadly. "As I said, honey, Renée was very childlike and forgetful. The supernatural aspect of it wasn't something she'd take lightly, and the knowledge would have put her in danger with the Volturi too." Mom paused for a moment, and her black eyes swept my body.

"In life, Nessie, you experience love and loss. When I met your father, I knew that he was the one thing I couldn't lose. I had friends in school, I loved Charlie and Renée – they were my parents - but as hard as it was, I had to leave them behind. By staying human, and each day a progression to death, I would have slowly been leaving your father and that was something I couldn't do. And then I had you, and you were simply too precious to leave."

Her pale hand reached out to take mine in hers. Despite its strength, it felt fragile as grief weakened her.

"I wouldn't want you to leave me. I couldn't leave you behind." I said, blinking back tears that had formed in my eyes. I gripped my mom's hand harder.

"That's good to hear." I wondered if I'd said too much. If, by mentioning my own impossibility at leaving my parents, she doubted her decision.

The truth was, if I had to decide between my mother and Jake, then it would, heartbreakingly, be Jake. He was my life, my rock, my stars and sun; everything. He had my heart, and I had his. Without him, I'd be nothing. Without my mother, there'd be something missing. But that something was something I could live through, something that would slowly heal.

I understood Mom's decision.

"I knew the day would come one day." Mom whispered quietly, and she turned her torso a little so her outstretched hand fingered the lettering of the grave. "I just never got to say goodbye."

I'd heard Mom on the phone to Renée once or twice when I was little. But then the phone calls stopped, because Renée believed Mom to be dead. I wondered how Renée had reacted to the supposed death of her baby. I'd never had kids, and I never could have them either. The desire had passed me a while ago, but I saw the way mothers looked at their children. I knew the love that passed between a single glance from my mother to me. It must have been hard on Renée to think her daughter had died.

"Dad told me once that when you were human, you kept trying to convince him that he had a soul when he didn't think so. Do you really believe that?" I asked, looking up at her.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't lie to your father." She smiled guiltily; we all knew how true it was.

"So you believe in heaven?"

"I guess so."

I smiled warmly. "Then Grandma Renée is watching you now, smiling as you try and say goodbye to her, pleased that she knows you are alive. She's probably shouting at you to smile and be happy, to remember her in the good ways. She'll understand, Mom; she'll be able to see how much you and Dad are in love." I tried to soothe her with my words, and I swear if Mom could have cried, she would have. Biting her lip, the pressure seemed to make a small mark.

"I'll, erm, I'll be right back." I excused, standing up quickly and running through the graves silently. I quickly looked back at Mom who sat by the grave, her fingers still touching the lettering, and I heard the gentle mumbling of her.

Instantly, Dad was beside me.

"You did that on purpose." I accused at my father, as he eyed his wife's crumpled form.

"She doesn't like to admit it, but I've grown to read her even though her thoughts are a blank piece of paper to me." He smiled gently as we watched Mom from a distance. "She needed her daughter then, not her husband." His words were true as I remembered her collapsing after he'd left, as she'd tried to spare his feelings.

"I guess it worked." I observed as Mom stood up, placing a small kiss on the top of the grave. Slowly, she turned around and walked at a human pace over to us, straight into Dad's arms.

"I'm ready to go." She whispered hoarsely, and with a quick nod, Dad helped her to walk away.

_I'll be there in a minute_, I told my dad silently, knowing he'd be listening to my thoughts.

I followed the path to the grave of my grandmother, and knelt beside the grave and began to talk.

"I told Mom that you'd be listening to her, so I wonder if you're going to listen to me too. I know there are tonnes of people who've never met their grandparents, but I wish I had too. With the rest of the Cullens, and Grandpa Charlie, you are the missing jigsaw piece. I hope you don't blame Mom or Dad for that decision to keep you out of my life, but it was safest for us, and for you.

"Everyone else in my family met you, even if it was just once. You seem like such an amazing person; so loving, kind, caring and funny. Is it strange to say I miss you without even knowing you? I've heard bits about you, and I'd like to know more. When you live forever like I do, you seem to dwell on the things that others don't; much like wanting to meet your grandparents.

"Errm, well, I'm Renesmee. I've got your name in mine, although everyone calls me Nessie. I realise you've only started watching since now. I'm half vampire, half human, and I'm your granddaughter. I'm married now though, to Jake, and I love him with all my heart. You'll see him about if you stay tuned.

"I don't know whether you're the jealous kind, but don't worry. Esme is my Nana, but you're my Grandma. There is a difference, and I see you separately but equally, I guess. I know it's not your fault I never met you.

"I hope I make you smile, Grandma. Talk to you soon."

I wiped a stray tear that had fallen down my cheek, and then let more of them fall, catching them in my palms.

Standing, I turned to walk away. But not before the sun poked its way out of the clouds. With my skin glowing in the new light, I shone under the eyes of my Grandma, smiling at the way she'd replied to me, telling me she'd heard every word.

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_Thanks for reading xx_


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